


Let Me Teach You What Real Love Looks Like

by IveDoneMyWaiting



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Caring Sam Seaborn, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exercise as Unhealthy Coping, Falling In Love, Father-Son Relationship, First Bartlet Campaign, Food Issues, Good Friend C.J. Cregg, Good Friend Toby Ziegler, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Overworking, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-White House (West Wing), Protective Josh Lyman, Sam Seaborn's Mother is Trying Her Best, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Supportive Sam Seaborn, Time Skips, Touch-Starved Sam Seaborn, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, White House
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:15:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IveDoneMyWaiting/pseuds/IveDoneMyWaiting
Summary: Sam and Josh seem...inevitable. When they meet working on a Congressional campaign pre-Bartlet administration, they begin to fall in love, without even realizing it.Pressure from Sam's father tears them apart, but when Josh comes back to get Sam, this time to work for Jed Bartlett, it seems like they've found their second chance.On the path to the White House, and working as a part of Bartlett's White House staff, Josh begins to discover truths about Sam that makes the puzzle pieces...fall into place...and together, they find a way to work through demons past and present, as Josh tries to show Sam what real love should look like.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	Let Me Teach You What Real Love Looks Like

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Brief references to some physical abuse and PTSD

Josh doesn’t remember the exact moment he met Sam Seaborn. Perhaps it’s because it felt inevitable, that they’d known each other all their lives, that they fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces, that Sam had been the thing he’d been searching and searching and searching for, the thing that makes him feel like he might be completely whole.

Sam will always remember the moment he met Josh Lyman. Josh crashed into his life like a freight train, literally. Sam had been rushing to get some edits in for the Congressman’s rally that afternoon, scribbling as he walked, and he only has time to register the tenor of a deep, rich voice shouting before another body slams into his, the chest solid and strong, when two arms grab his biceps to keep him upright, hands large and calloused and so unlike Sam’s long taped fingers meant for playing classical piano. As papers fluttered around them, Sam looked up into the most vibrant, bottomless brown eyes he’d even seen, filled with warmth and ablaze with the fire Sam could feel running through his veins. 

“Josh Lyman,” the man said, the right side of his mouth quirking up into a half smile, and Sam knew he was done for. 

They quickly became joined at the hip in the office, staying late into the night working on strategy sessions or refining political platforms. They thrived off the other’s energy, bouncing ideas off each other constantly, everyone could see it, even the Congressman remarked he should have locked them in a room together sooner.

Josh doesn’t know quite when late nights at the office blurred into beers after work and Chinese at his apartment, watching old reruns of Seinfeld on mute as they talked about anything and everything from law school horror stories to Josh’s father’s treatment, but Sam, with his captivating blue eyes and endless idealism and luscious thick hair that Josh ached to run his fingers through, felt like he belonged there.

Josh may not remember the moment he met Sam Seaborn, but he remembers the night Sam fell asleep on his couch, burned out from the campaign. Josh knows Sam eats too little and takes weird twisted pride in running on no sleep and guzzles coffee like it’s water. He knows Sam sometimes goes for runs at three in the morning, because there’s this constant buzzing energy under his skin he can’t get rid of. He knows Sam doesn’t really like to be touched, avoids hugs and claps on the shoulder, but slowly, over the last few months, he’s begun to lay his head on Josh’s shoulder as they sit on the couch, and Josh can feel a part of Sam let go.

He remembers watching Sam’s eyes flutter closed, realizing how much younger he looks, softer, asleep like this. He put a blanket over Sam gently, and continued watching images of Seinfeld flash silently across the screen. The next thing Josh knew, he felt warm, safe, safer than he had in a long time, and he never wanted to leave, he wanted to stay like this forever. Opening his eyes, he realizes he’s tangled with Sam, Sam holding him into his chest. He watches Sam sleep for a long time, then quietly slips away, making them both eggs. _It’ll be easier like this, he thinks._

It’s no surprise that they win the governor campaign, easily. It’s no surprise that Josh quickly accepts another strategy position, this time out in California. It’s no surprise that later that night, drunk on whiskey and victory, he tells Sam about Joanie...the first person he’s told… ever. He watches Sam’s beautiful blue eyes soften and lets Sam pull him into a hug as Josh cries and cries and cries, burying his head into Sam’s chest sobbing that he knows his father hates him for it, if your parents can’t love you then surely no one can, as Sam strokes his hair and whispers, _“It’s not your fault, darling. It’s not your fault. You’re so loved, I promise you. You’re so loved, Josh._

It’s no surprise that after the tears stop and Josh lifts his head to look up at Sam, wonderful, kind, caring Sam, that he can’t help but lean up and press his lips to Sam’s gorgeous ones, lips he’s been dreaming about for months. It is a surprise when Sam kisses him back, tenderly and softly, filled with something like love.

But then Sam pulls away, looking at Josh with an impossible ache, and Josh can see tears on his cheeks.

“Sam?”

“Josh, I - I’m so sorry, but - my father - he wants me to… I have to accept a job at Gage Whitney.”

Josh feels his stomach drop. “In New York City?”

Sam nods, his eyes filled with something Josh can’t place.

“But that’s not what you...this is what you love, Sam, this is what you’re meant to be doing, you’re - you’re extraordinary.”

Sam looks away, a red tint rising to his cheeks. “My father doesn’t think I should be wasting my time on… ‘second-rate political campaigns’. That that’s not what he...trained me for.”

“This is your life, Sam. It doesn’t matter what your father thinks!”

Sam pulls away then, running a hand through his hair. Josh immediately misses his warmth. “It’s not… it’s complicated.”

Josh grabs Sam’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “Come with me.”

Sam looks at him, with those eyes that Josh...that Josh _loves_. “I wish I could.”

Sam uses his days off after the campaign to come with Josh to Connecticut, to help him clean up his father’s house, and come with him to the hospital to pick his father up after chemo. Sam doesn’t hold his hand, or kiss him tenderly, but Josh feels his hand on the small of his back, Sam’s warmth reminding him that he’s _there, that Josh isn’t alone_.

Sam, ever charismatic and charming and lighting up every room, makes his father laugh and reads him the Sunday crossword while Josh can’t help but sit awkwardly in the visitor’s chair. He charms the nurses into giving them extra blankets and pillows and chocolate pudding, and as Sam leaves two days later, leaves Josh to go to New York to a career Josh knows he will hate, wrapping Josh in a hug that surrounds him and fills him and opens up a gaping hole in his chest, in the silence Sam leaves behind, his father looks at him in a way that Josh thinks is a little too wise, and makes Josh matzo ball soup just the way he would when Josh was little.

Josh and Sam email every day but it isn’t the same. Josh knows, he _knows_ Sam isn’t doing well, in the way Sam’s sentences lack the hope that is so implicitly Sam, in the way Sam had to make trips out to Orange County once a month, in the way Sam’s every other sentence includes the words ‘my father feels’, in the way Sam talks about going running almost every night now. They try to talk on the phone, but their schedules just don’t align. Josh can feel Sam slipping away but doesn’t know how to grab his hand. And then when Sam calls him to tell him he’s engaged to Lisa Sherborne, his voice empty and nothing like Sam at all, and tells Josh his father wants a fall wedding, and Josh asks Sam if he loves her and Sam tells him that he needs to, Josh’s heart breaks.

Josh, with his empty heart, working for Senator John Hoynes, not really sure what he’s doing or why anymore, somehow finds himself in New York on his way to see Josiah Bartlett, at a firm whose name he can’t really remember. But then Josh sees him walking towards him, and it’s _Sam, Sam, Sam_ , and Sam is hugging him, and it’s like coming home.

When Sam asks Josh if he’ll tell him if Josh sees the real thing, this time, Josh knows, if he asks, Sam will come with him. When he turns up, soaked and dripping, waiting for Sam, it turns out he didn’t have to.

On the campaign trail, Sam comes alive again, overflowing with the words and the passion and the idealism Josh is in love with. Lisa and Sam split up quickly, and it didn’t seem like Sam minds at all. 

Still, Josh isn’t sure where they stand. Sam doesn’t touch him, more than a brief touch on the arm, but their ideas flow off each other as if no time had passed, and Sam still looks at him with those eyes, that smile that is just for him, and for now, that’s enough.

This time, Josh notices things about Sam he didn’t before, and wonders how he could’ve missed them. Sam is a beautiful, complex puzzle, one Josh wants desperately to piece together. How Sam sometimes jumps when someone touches him and he’s not expecting it. How he doesn’t forget to eat so much as thinks of it as something he only deserves when he finishes everything he needs to, no matter how often Josh drops plates of food at his desk. How, when their hotel rooms are next door, he often hears arguments late at night, and when he asks Sam about it, Sam shakes him off, smiling tiredly and saying, “it’s nothing, J.”

How when Josh’s father died the night of the Illinois primary, Sam followed him into the bathroom and held him while he cried, kissing his temple. How he tried to go with Josh to the funeral, but Josh wouldn’t let him.

How as the campaign trail kept winding down, Sam went running more and more, showing up most mornings as if he hadn’t slept at all. There were dark bags under his cheeks, and he’d lost weight. Toby chalked it up to exhaustion, but Josh knew better. 

How Sam’s father called him out to California one weekend in the middle of the busiest part of the campaign, and Sam went, apologizing over and over to Leo about a family emergency. 

Sam came back looking wrecked. That morning after staff, Sam stumbled, swaying, and Josh caught him around the waist, noticing how pale and clammy his skin was as his eyes fluttered shut. Josh felt Sam’s weight drop against his chest, god, it was so much less than it used to be.

“Sam,” Josh shook him gently, and Sam’s head lolled back onto his shoulder as Sam didn’t stir.

Josh felt panic surge in his chest. Shifting so he could support Sam’s weight completely, he tapped Sam’s face hard. “Sam!” 

Sam’s eyelashes fluttered but he still didn’t wake. CJ popped her head around the corner. “Everything okay?”

Josh didn’t even bother looking at her, remaining focused on Sam. “Sam collapsed, he’s not waking up.” He could hear the panic in his voice.

CJ rushed forward to look more closely at Sam, and Josh had to fight the protective urge that rose in his chest. “Poor Samshine, he’s probably exhausted, flying back and forth. Should I get Dr. Bartlett?”

“No! I mean, I’ve got him. Could you get me some water, something for Sam to eat?”

As CJ hurried off, Josh picked Sam up in his arms, not caring what it looked like, and strode off to the beat up couch they’d discovered hidden in a forgotten corner of the building.

He laid Sam down gently, and knelt next to him, brushing his hair off his sweat soaked forehead. “Oh, darling. You’re so loved, you know that? I wish you could see it,” Josh whispered softly.

Sam let out a low, pained moan, and Josh felt his heart ache. He couldn’t bear to remove his hand, even though he knew he should, instead sliding it down to cup Sam’s cheek. Sam’s eyes fluttered open, glazed and unfocused, brow furrowed.

“There are those beautiful eyes.”

“J? What...what happened?”

Josh rubbed small circles into Sam’s cheek. “You fainted coming out of staff. Scared the shit out of me.”

Sam nuzzled into Josh’s hand, and Josh tried to ignore the rush of warmth filling his chest. “‘M sorry, ‘m alright, head just... hurts...pounding...a little achy.”

“When’s the last time you drank some water? Or ate something?”

Sam’s eyes flicked away from his, instead he grabbed Josh’s arm and pulled it across his chest. Josh ached to climb onto the couch and hold Sam properly. “Didn’t mean to...push it that far...just...so tired...wanna sleep a little while...you’re...make me safe...just...stay and I can sleep and be…”

Sam’s eyes fluttered closed and as much as Josh wanted to let him sleep, he knew enough to know Sam needed to stay awake, to eat and drink. He shook him gently.

“Sam, baby, I’m sorry, you can’t sleep, you gotta stay awake - “

“So tired, Josh, stay, please - “

“I’m here, Sam, I’m not leaving, I promise - “ Josh realized suddenly that Sam’s dress shirt was soaked through with sweat and Sam was shivering slightly. 

“Let’s get this shirt off you, okay? You seem warm.”

This seems to wake Sam up, and he pushes Josh away weakly. “No, Josh, it’s fine.”

“Sam, c’mon, you’re soaking wet.”

“Josh, please, my head...I’m tired.”

“Here… just let me...I’ve got you, alright? It’s okay.”

Josh supports Sam’s head gently with one hand as he unbuttons his shirt with the other, just as CJ arrives with water and a sandwich for Sam. He helps Sam sit up and lean against the couch, Sam swatting him away as he tries to hold the water glass for him. Out of the corner of Josh’s eye, he sees CJ looking at him a little too knowingly, and avoids her gaze.

After Sam downs the water, his eyes look a little less glassy, and Josh breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Alright, let’s get you out of this shirt, okay? And then you’re taking the rest of the day off.”

“I can’t - ”

“I’ve already spoken to Toby and Leo,” CJ interrupts. “They said you deserve some rest and they’d rather have you at the top of your game the rest of the week.”

While Sam’s distracted protesting, Josh maneuvers him out of his shirt. As he pulls the shirt off Sam’s left arm, he notices a fresh looking bruise on Sam’s wrist. On closer inspection, Josh realizes it looks like a handprint.

Bile rises in Josh’s throat, but CJ’s too busy mothering Sam for either of them to notice. “Alright, let’s get you home, fed, and then you’ll get some sleep.”

Sam protests weakly, but lets Josh collect his things, shepard him into his coat, and doesn’t bother arguing as CJ ruffles his hair and Josh supports his weight back out to the car. Sam has his eyes closed during the ride until Josh stops at some fast food place, knowing how much Sam secretly loves greasy food even though he’s also a health nut, and makes sure Sam eats every bite, even as he downs his own burger and fries, not even realizing how starving he was. Had he eaten breakfast today? Josh wasn’t sure.

As they get back to the hotel, Josh can see Sam’s energy flagging, so he practically takes on Sam’s whole weight as they get back to the room. He helps Sam out of his dress clothes, hands him a pair of clean boxers, and goes to the bathroom to run a washcloth under warm water while Sam changes. He comes out with the washcloth and a towel, and gently rinses the sweat off Sam’s body, trying to put as much love and tenderness into each gesture as he can. He can tell how much Sam wants to lean into his touch, but is afraid to.

“It’s alright, Sam,” he whispers. “Let me take care of you for once.”

He towels Sam off with soft caresses and Sam leans into his chest, Josh trying not to focus on how Sam carefully hid his wrist from him. He runs his fingers through Sam’s thick, gorgeous hair and Sam looks up at him, tears in his eyes.

“Sam? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just - “ Sam looks away. Josh hooks a finger under his chin and forces Sam to look at him. 

“No one’s ever taken care of me like this before,” Sam whispers.

Josh forces down the rage and anger and sadness that rises up like a tidal wave inside of him. This moment isn’t about him, it’s about Sam. He leans down and kisses Sam’s forehead gently, and Sam lets out a soft sigh. 

Josh gets Sam a comfy t-shirt and sweatpants and helps him dress. Sam looks up at him.

“J? Would you...stay?” 

Warmth floods through Josh. “Of course." 

He turns down the sheets and shucks his dress clothes, down to his boxers and a t-shirt. Sam looks ready to drop. The question has been building up inside of Josh ever since he saw the bruise and he needs to know...Sam asked him to stay...maybe he’s let down his guard enough to tell him the truth…

“Sam?”

Sam’s leaning against the headboard, practically falling asleep sitting up. “Hmm?”

“The...um...the bruise on your arm...where’d it come from?”

Sam stiffens immediately, turning away from Josh.

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I just fell, it’s fine.”

Sam’s notoriously clumsy amongst the senior staff, but something didn’t sit right with Josh.

“I don’t remember you having it before you left for California.”

“I fell over the weekend, okay?”

Josh knows he should let it go, but he can’t. He’s always known something isn’t right.

“Then why does it look like a handprint, Sam?”

Sam stills. He looks incredibly small.

“Josh…” He sighs, and doesn’t answer for a long time. Josh thinks maybe he’s fallen asleep. “My father and I got into a fight. He grabbed me, it’s fine.”

“Sam…”

“It’s not a big deal, Josh.”

“He had to have grabbed you pretty hard to leave a bruise like that.” Josh is begging now, pleading with Sam to tell him the truth.

Sam covers his face with his hands, and takes a deep breath. “Josh, I’m so tired. Please, can we just...can we please go to bed?”

Josh softens. He can hear the exhaustion in Sam’s voice. “Yeah, yeah of course.”

They get into bed, on opposite sides, not touching, and Josh turns out the light. Josh doesn’t know the rules anymore. Does Sam just want him there, are they just sleeping in the same bed...Josh can feel Sam’s warmth and desperately wants to move into it, but can’t make himself move.

Sam’s voice breaks the quiet, small and fragile. “Can you hold me?”

Josh lets out a breath. “Of course, darling." He scoops Sam into his arms, tangling his fingers into Sam’s hair, as Sam nuzzles into his chest. Tomorrow Josh would deal with...tomorrow’s problems...but tonight, in this room, just the two of them could exist.


End file.
